The Werewulf Incident
by Crimson White
Summary: The Werewulf incident, as mentioned in my ficlet Battle Scars. The Pevensie brothers find themselves under attack, during what was meant to be a simple ride. Chaos ensues.
1. Chapter 1

To begin: Characters are not mine.

So this is the Werewulf Incident as mentioned in my ficlet Battle Scars. It's just a bit of fun – trying my hand at writing a fight.......

So, I hope you enjoy.

Crimson.

_"He was eighteen, I was fifteen, It was the – which year was it? Um, the fourth year of our reign. _

_Scared everyone silly when the damned thing appeared from nowhere and tried to avenge his queen."_

......................................................................................................................................................

"Did Su tell you that Lune has invited us for a Christmas visit?"

Peter turned to look at his brother. They were riding side by side at a slow walk, headed out to inquire about the well being of a recent settlement. This was a one off outing with no guards, just themselves. Edmund had convinced his brother that they would not be getting into any trouble during a simple trip which was less than two miles.

It was freezing, one of those days just before it started to snow and the two Kings were wrapped heavily in thick cloaks and sturdy boots of leather. But despite the chill, they wore great smiles and their shoulders were relaxed. It was quiet, here in the woods. No worries for a brief period of time.

"Not yet. That would be grand though, a week or so away would do us good."

Edmund nodded, pushing his crown further back onto his head as it fell over one eye. "We'll have to schedule it before our own celebrations start though. We'll have to be back in order for you to open the winter festivities."

Peter laughed. "Oh yes, we won't miss the winter festivities. Susan's been planning them for the last three weeks already. And it's _still eight weeks_ until Christmas."

Edmund joined his laughter. "You know how she gets. Lu's already taken to hiding behind the curtains when she passes."

Peter inclined his head. "I think we should follow suit, brother. For our own well being."

"Otherwise we'll be stuck hanging flowers in the Throne Hall - remember that year?" Edmund added with a smirk.

His crown fell in front of his eyes once again and Edmund sighed, shoving it back carelessly.

"Ed," said Peter, his eyes full of mirth, "you shall have to get that circlet of yours fixed, or Susan will be on to you about looking respectable."

Edmund pushed his crown up again. "Well it's not my fault that I'm growing so quickly that the dwarves have grown sick of making me a new one every few months. Braord decided just to make an extra big one this time and told me I could grow into it!"

Peter laughed again heartily and eyed him fondly. "You _are _growing. Soon you shall stand taller than I."

Edmund pulled his head into his shoulders and smiled up at his brother. "I shall have to stunt my growth. We can't have the High King's little brother standing taller than the High King, now can we?"

Edmund's crown fell again and his view was obscured.

"No," Peter began – but then his voice was covered by a piercing howl so loud that Edmund barely heard his brother's strangled cry of surprise. Then the horses went crazy.

Edmund shoved back his crown fiercely, his heart pumping with sudden adrenalin and clung to his saddle. He glanced around wildly, while trying to calm Brax and spied Peter's horse. It had broken into a sprint, headed back towards the Cair.

It was riderless.

"Ed!"

And then he saw them. The Werewulf had Peter pinned on his back, it's eyes a wild red as it snarled in the High King's face. Peter's hands were busy pushing the snapping jaws away from his body; he was unable to reach his sword.

Instinctively, Edmund let go of the horse to grab his own sword, readying to run to his brother's defence. He did forget this particular horse was not war trained and immediately was thrown to the ground as the animal pranced away.

His crown flew off his head - he never noticed. Edmund never even felt the fall, simply rolled and jumped to his feet, grasping his sword in two hands as he dove towards the fray, single minded in his intent. _Get to Peter._

"HEY!" he hollered, hoping to distract the beast.

It swiped a paw at Peter's face and Edmund spied the strange, yet familiar and hated tattoo marks across its front right paw.

_It was one of hers._

There hadn't been an assassination attempt by one of _her_ beasts in over two years.

The beast, half starved by the look of it, was full of wiry strength and unpredictable at best. It appeared to not notice Edmund.

Edmund, not thinking terribly clearly (other than: _Get it off Peter_ ) and seeing his brother's face inches from the beast's teeth, used his momentum and simply hurled himself at the bulk of the animal, sending them both crashing away from the High King.

The animal howled in his ear and as they rolled, scrambling together in the dirt, Edmund felt the painful path of a paw of claws raking into his left shoulder. He cried out as the claws tore his flesh, easily breaking the cloak he had been wearing. The claws raked again and again, deepening the first wounds.

He grunted as they hit a tree. His shoulder burned fiercely in the dirt.

"Get OFF!" he hissed to the beast, smashing it's jaws to the side and using his legs to kick it away from his body.

The beast yelped and immediately the weight over Edmund lessened.

"Hey! Over here you GREAT UGLY BRUTE!"

Edmund sighed with relief. Peter was up. The beast turned from Edmund with a snarl.

Gasping, Edmund rolled to his side, scrambling for his sword. He passed it to his right hand as he noticed blood dripping down his left. He blocked the searing pain and turned to search for the wulf and his brother.

They were circling each other a few feet away, the wulf snarling, looking monstrous beside the High King. But Rhindon was sure and flashed in to nick the beast's shoulder.

It howled, enraged and swiped at Peter. Peter ducked, and underneath the Wulf's paw, he caught sight of Edmund, his eyes widening as he saw his brother's shoulder.

Peter froze.

How many times had Oreius warned them about distractions? How many times had he told Peter not to be distracted by his protective instinct towards Edmund?

Peter paid for his moment of concern. Edmund had not even the time to shout a warning. The beast whipped out his paw, sent the High King's sword flying and lunged at the man, bowling him flat to the ground.

Edmund's legs were already pumping, carrying him towards the two once again. He gripped his sword with his right and drew his dagger with his left, ignoring the slippery blood coating his hand.

His steps almost faltered as he heard Peter's scream. He almost gagged in fright as he saw the beast's mouth push past Peter's fists and clamp down hard on his shoulder. His heart almost stopped beating as he heard the tear of material and flesh.

"NO!" The cry had torn itself from his lips, pulled the air from his lungs without him knowing.

Peter's body went limp. _With shock._ Edmund told himself firmly, _With shock – he wasn't_ –

The wulf was so occupied with tearing his brother apart that it never saw Edmund coming. With a fierce howl of rage Edmund brought his sword down on the neck of the beast, following quickly with his dagger, thrusting it into the jugular, ignoring the burn in his arm.

The wulf gagged and flinched, rearing away from the murderous metal and Edmund released the dagger, unable to keep his arm clenched any longer. But he followed it doggedly with his sword.

The beast staggered to the left, sending out a paw to swat at him feebly. It wanted to continue the fight. But Edmund had no time. Peter groaned behind him. He had no time. A deft swipe later and the beast was still, lying in a crumpled heap by the tree they had grappled against earlier.

Edmund had no time to breathe. No time to retrieve his dagger. No time.

He made his feet stagger towards his brother and dropped to his knees painfully. His left arm was all but useless; he couldn't even feel the burn of torn flesh anymore. He had no idea how bad it was. Was that his blood which dripped down his fingers or the wulf's?

But oh – _Aslan _– that was Peter's blood. That was his brother's blood making a pile of mud on the forest floor. And there was _so much._

He had no time. No time.

"Pete!" he gasped, "Pete, answer me."

Peter groaned and his eyes fluttered. Gingerly Edmund rolled him slightly to assess the damage. It was bad. That was all he could tell. Bad enough.

He glanced around desperately. The horses were long gone. Through his own haze his brain stubbornly kept working. Stubbornly clung to protocol, to what he had been taught.

"Pete, we've got to move. We've got to get back to the Cair. I don't know if there are any more – you need the cordial, Pete –"

And he didn't know how he did it, but he managed to get Peter to his knees and then his feet. But his brother was fighting to stay conscious; Edmund could feel the blood from Peter's shoulder seeping over the hand which steadied his brother. He was losing blood, fast.

Edmund shook his head as the grey clouds rolled across his vision. So was he. Losing blood.

"Come on. Move." He didn't know whether he was saying that to Peter or to himself.

Grunting he began to haul Peter a few steps. He had no sense of time. He only knew he had none.

At one point he stumbled, Peter's weight becoming too much and they tumbled painfully to the grass. Peter groaned as they hit the hard ground and Edmund's breath caught in his throat as his shoulder knocked painfully against a rock.

"Get up. Get up. Get up," he chanted to himself, blinking fiercely and summoning strength.

When Edmund lifted his head, he was face to face with a pair of rabbits taking tea. They stared at him with wide eyes, their ears quivering. He could hear their teacups rattling against their saucers.

"Good afternoon," he managed to groan as politely as he could, gritting his teeth through the pain. "Please send word to The Queen Lucy that her brothers are in need of her cordial." He considered their frozen faces a moment. "Please." He added for good measure and promptly lay his head back in the grass.

After another startled pause, one rabbit dropped its cup with a smash and dashed off, the soft thump of his hind legs a sound of hope. Edmund followed its progress with his eyes, winking away the black dots.

"Oh dear. Oh dear," said the remaining rabbit, fretting with its ears. "Oh dear. Whatever shall I do?"

"Please," Edmund mumbled, "Please send word to my sister." He was barely aware anymore. "Please."

"Oh yes, oh yes, there's help on the way," the rabbit replied.

" – My sister." His lips were numb.

"Oh dear, King Edmund? Can you hear me?" A soft paw touched his face gently.

" – My brother? See my brother." Edmund could feel Peter's warm breath on his neck, against which the High King had fallen. He was still alive.

"Yes, yes. He's breathing, he's here. Oh dear, I wish they'd hurry. I wish I were taller, I wish I were stronger."

"The blood –"

"Oh! Oh yes! I can stop the bleeding. Wait here –" the rabbit darted away.

"I won't move." Edund snorted at his own joke and sighed. The ground was feeling increasingly soft.

Then the rabbit was back and Edmund felt the tiny thing flutter around his brother, heard the tearing of fabric. And then, vaguely, Edmund thought he heard a horn in the distance.

"Lu?"

Oh!" The rabbit sounded brighter now. "Oh they're coming, sire. I can hear them through the trees. They're coming. Hold on now. Hold on."

Edmund clenched his arms around his brother. "I am. I'm holding," he said, and his eyes slipped closed.

"OVER HERE" The Rabbit cried in a voice much louder than Edmund ever expected a rabbit to have. And as he sunk into unconsciousness, he thought he heard the steps of horses, the voices of frightened animals and anxious humans.

And then there was Lucy.

"Edmund! Oh! _Peter!_ Oh Aslan! Make way, let me through! _Edmund?_"

......................................................................................................................................................

So what did you think? I've never tried to write a fight before...hmmm... will take a bit of practise I think.

There will be a follow up chapter in the next couple of days. ; )


	2. Chapter 2

Characters are still not mine.

The second chapter – the aftermath of the attack.

Hope you enjoy.

Crimson.

......................................................................................................................................................

It was rather disconcerting, waking up with a face right next to yours.

He blinked and stared at his sister, breathing in her light floral scent and stifling the urge to scratch his nose as her hair tickled him. Her eyes lit up as she noticed him blink at her blearily.

"Oh! You're awake! Lucy – Edmund's awake. Oh you had us worried, Ed." Susan flitted around him as he squinted into the bright light.

"Su," he complained, (his voice was scratchy), shutting his eyes again and sighing as she began plumping his pillows and fretting over the covers. "Stop that, you're jostling me."

She laughed wetly and Edmund finally opened his eyes properly to see that she was wiping away tears.

"Oh don't cry," he said desperately. That was the last thing he needed. A blubbering sister.

Susan sniffed and, smiling tremulously, sat down on a chair which was positioned next to him, gently reaching out to brush her fingers through his hair. "Oh Ed," she said simply and that was all.

He tried to give her a smile and attempted to sit up. The sudden dull ache in his shoulder stilled his movements.

"Careful," Susan warned him. Her cool hands pushed back on his chest. "Careful, now."

The sudden burst of pain shot a message straight to his brain. And then he remembered. Edmund shot upright, not caring about the groan that escaped him or Susan's concerned gasp as she reached out to stop him from leaping out of bed.

"Peter?" He looked around the room with frantic eyes. Last he remembered – "Peter!"

"He's here." Edmund's eyes landed on Lucy, who was sitting next to the bed across the room, huddled over a lump of sheets.

Peter was fast asleep, his face peaceful, but his shoulder and torso were heavily bandaged. Lucy was holding one of Peter's hands in her own, her gaze holding steady upon his chest. She was watching the air go in and out of his lungs. Steady. Constant.

"Why isn't he awake?" Edmund asked her, leaning forward against Susan's iron hold desperately. "_I'm _awake. The cordial should have worked by now, shouldn't it? Why hasn't it?"

Lucy finally looked up and smiled at Edmund weakly. "His bite was a little worse than yours, so it's taking more time for the cordial to work."

She studied Edmund a moment and then gave him a bigger smile, her eyes brightening slightly. "Glad to see you're alright, Ed. Any pain?" she asked.

Edmund shifted against Susan's hands and held back a grimace. "Bit."

Lucy nodded knowingly. "Yes, there will be. Not for much longer, though." She glanced out the window. It was getting dark. "You've been asleep for half an hour. But the wounds were deep; the muscles were completely destroyed." Lucy levelled her solemn gaze back to his face. "They'll ache as they regrow. You'll be tired, too. Both of you will be. Blood loss does that."

Who _cared_ about being tired? There were more important things for right now.

"What about Peter's bite? It's not – he's not a -" Edmund tried to ask, but his tongue tripped on the words, his brain faltered at the consequences of a positive reply.

"Shush." Susan said to him fiercely and suddenly she was in front of him, pushing him back to the bed. "You need rest, Edmund. Stop it."

But Lucy saw his panicked eyes and shook her head in reply. "No, he's not a werewulf." She gave him another weak smile. "Thank goodness. I'm not sure how the Narnians would react to having a dark creature as their High King."

"It shouldn't matter," Edmund said fiercely, arching to see around Susan's shoulder, staring at his brother's face. "He'd still be Peter."

"We know," Susan said, calmly and firmly ending the discussion. "But we don't have to think about that. The fireflower cures all. Now let me look after you, Ed."

Edmund didn't relax, his eyes remainedl trained across the room, but he let Susan push him back against the pillows. Already his arm was starting to hurt less, Susan was unwinding the bandages, clucking her tongue as each red mark was revealed.

"And the body?" he asked either of them.

"The General was taking care of it last we heard. He was also sending out scouts to scour the area. We have to make sure there are no more," Susan said softly. Edmund saw her eyes dart to the door as she placed the bandages on a nearby table. He could see a centaur standing guard, along with several Cats. "They're treating it like an assassination attempt until we have more evidence otherwise."

Edmund shook his head, despair welled up, he clenched his fists. "I was stupid. I told Pete to let the guard go for the day. We were only going to be gone an hour tops. The damn thing has probably been lurking in the woods for ages, just waiting for the perfect time. And I just handed Peter over on a silver platter."

"Hush." Susan stroked his hair and held out a cup of herbal tea. He swallowed the scalding liquid without a fuss. "These things happen. It wasn't your fault. In fact, Lucy said if you hadn't of moved Peter through the woods and came across those Rabbits, he would more than likely have died before she could have reached him."

Edmund's heart jumped. He recalled the stuttered breaths against his neck as they lay in the grass, the ache in his shoulder, the fog in his head.

"Died? Was it – is it that bad?"

"Hush," Susan repeated, "you need to sleep, Ed."

She was right, his eyes were drooping. Strange, he was feeling alright five seconds ago. Susan watched him with her hawk eyes, twisting something in her fingers. He glanced at the tea cup in her hands and glared at her accusingly.

"You drugged me!"

He saw her fight a grin before he blinked and somehow his eyes didn't seem to want to reopen.

"It was the only way I was going to get you to slow down. You need sleep to replenish the blood you lost." He felt her cool hands against his forehead as she smoothed his hair. "You can ask more questions later. When you've rested."

"You'd better be here then," Hhe slurred, his head felt very heavy. "And Peter had better be awake."

The memory of his brother freezing underneath the Wolf's paw as he spotted Edmund's blood passed across his memory.

"...Cause i'm gonna yell at 'im"

"I really don't think you will."

"Nooo...I will....I...I"

"Shhhh. Night, Ed."

"Hnnnmmm"

......................................................................................................................................................

Susan was staring at him again.

"Seriously, Su. Staring at me while I sleep is creepy," Edmund mumbled, rolling over to glare at her.

It wasn't Susan who was sitting in the chair beside his bed.

It was Peter.

"Pete!" he said in surprise, his eyes flying open as he shot upright. He noted his shoulder didn't pain at all now. "You're awake!"

Peter cracked a smile. "I'm awake," he repeated. His eyes drifted over Edmund, lingering on his shoulder. "So're you." His voice was full of relief.

Edmund struggled out of the covers, ready to throw himself into his brother's arms, but Peter must have seen his intention and held up a hand in between them, protecting his wound, his eyes flaring briefly as he braced himself. Edmund paused, his arms hanging in the air and his smile fell.

"Are you alright?" he asked anxiously. "Lu did say that there would be pain for a bit. Your wounds were deep so it'll take a while for the muscles to regrow."

He raked his eyes over his brother's face, seeing each pain there. "A bit sore?" He paused when Peters reply was not instant. "Peter?" he prompted.

Peter seemed loath to admit it but finally nodded. "A bit," he replied and dropped the hand which was held up between them to gently touch the bandages.

Edmund huffed at the gesture. He levelled a stern gaze at his injured brother. "Well you wouldn't _be_ sore, if you hadn't of gone all big brother on me and gotten bitten in the first place! What _was_ that Pete? You know better than to get distracted."

Peter frowned. "Well you didn't actually see yourself, Ed. You had blood all down your arm and you were staggering. _You were really hurt."_

Edmund sighed. "Yes, but thanks to your momentary distraction, _you got hurt worse_ and I had to drag your great big lump of a body through the forest until I collapsed on a pair of frightened rabbits!"

Peter quirked an eyebrow, a tiny smile appearing on his lips. "Rabbits?" he asked.

Edmund felt his own grin begin to form as he recalled the Animals frozen faces, the shock they must have suffered as their two kings practically fell on top of them bloody and half deceased.

"Yes, I rather think we disturbed their tea."

Peter snorted with laughter and Edmund smiled to hear the sound. "We should perhaps invite them for supper - they did save us by running for help. Lucy got there in time," he said.

Peter's laughter cut off and Edmund sighed, the lighter atmosphere fell flat.

He studied his brother's worn face, eyes travelling over the bandages. "I wasn't sure she was _going_ to make it." Edmund continued softly. "You were pretty bad off, Pete."

Peter reached out his hand and grasped Edmund's, squeezing tightly.

"But you saved me," he replied. "_Again._ Thanks Ed."

Edmund shrugged. He looked away so his brother didn't see the tears he fought back.

"The wulf?" Peter asked into the tense silence.

"Dead," Edmund told him firmly, blinking fiercely. "I killed it."

Peter shook his head. "One of the witch's? I thought I saw -"

" -Yes. It had the markings across its paw. A renegade. More than likely been alone for a long while."

"Hasn't been an attack in –"

"Two years," Edmund finished for him with a nod. "Oreius has set up a perimeter already. They won't find anything."

"Why not?"

"Because there aren't any left."

Peter stared at him, another smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "I beg to differ."

Edmund ignored his good humour and sighed. "Not enough to find anyway. There's only going to be the few like the wulf who surprised us. We'll just have to keep up our guard."

There it was. The absence of the guard. His stupid request which ended with an attempt made on his brother's life.

Peter squeezed Edmund's hand and hung his head, lifting his spare hand to rub his nose. This gesture Edmund was not used to seeing. It generally only appeared when Peter was greatly upset.

"It's all my fault," Peter murmured.

Edmund closed his mouth with a snap. _He_ had just been about to apologise for the whole mess.

"Excuse me?"

Peter glared at him. "It is, Ed. I should have brought along the guard. I was stupid to think we were alright travelling outside the Cair alone. Anything could have happened. You could have been killed!"

"Peter, _I_ told you to knock off the guard so we could have some _fun _for once. And _I _didn't almost get killed – _that was you_. Or were you too _unconscious_ to remember that bit?"

They stared at each other heatedly until Peter cracked a smile. "It's a bit blurry," he admitted. "Well Ed, _did you have fun_?"

"Very much, thank-you. I do hope we can have such an outing once again, brother," Edmund dead panned. He whipped out a fist to cuff Peter's ear good naturedly. "Pax?"

Instead of replying, Peter caught Edmund's extended arm and peered at his shoulder.

"Can I see?"

Obligingly, Edmund yanked down the neck of his shirt, displaying the vivid red claw marks which now marred his skin. Peter's grip on his arm tightened and Edmund instantly regretted showing the marks. But, he mused, Peter would somehow see it, best get it over with now.

"It'll scar?" Peter asked, his voice low.

"Yes. But not so vividly. They'll fade."

Peter's eyes glimmered in the dim light, his breathing was ragged as he reached out and gently pulled the shirt back over the marks. Edmund swallowed heavily against the sudden lump in his throat.

"Sorry, Ed."

Edmund pulled his arm away, clearing his throat. "Pax, remember? Nobody's fault." He leant forward. "Show me yours. Yours should be rather impressive."

Gently, he helped his brother to unwind the bandages which were surrounding his torso and shoulder. Peter leant forward so Edmund could see his back and shoulder clearly.

Edmund felt the salty tang of tears as they sprung to his eyes once again. He stood behind his brother's chair, glad that Peter could not see his face.

"How is it?" Peter asked.

It was horrible.

Edmund shook his head and whistled low. "Phew. Yeah, that's a pretty one for the collection. I can make out teeth marks." He made a fine effort of sounding light and cheery.

"Really?" Peter twisted and Edmund was pleased to see he didn't wince at the movement anymore. "Teeth marks?'

"Uh huh." Edmund traced them with his finger gently. "Here, here, here. It's basically an imprint of its mouth Pete."

Peter was quiet again, staring over his shoulder at his brother's face.

"What?" Edmund asked him, moving around so Peter didn't have to twist.

Peter smiled at him again and shook his head minutely. "Just thanks – it could have been my neck if you hadn't have gotten there in time."

Edmund squeezed Peter's elbow. "You'd do the same."

Peter nodded. "And more."

"I know."

They smiled at each other.

"Oh come here." Peter finally said and pulled his little brother into a hug. Edmund went gladly and was comforted to feel his brother's steady heart beat against his ear.

He had time.

"Peter!" It was Lucy. She stood in the doorway, dressed in her night clothes. "Peter!"

She clapped her hands and dove at them, wriggling herself until she was between the brothers, her arms wrapped around them both.

"Oh dear, Peter, try not to do that again."

Peter laughed. "Hey! Edmund was hurt too."

Lucy glared at him mockingly. "Yes, but from what he's said, _you_ got hurt unnecessarily. Edmund can look after himself."

Edmund nodded. "Yeah! _Edmund_ can look after himself. You tell him, Lu, Maybe he'll listen to you."

"Not likely," said Susan as she walked into the room and smiled. She came to sit beside Peter, perching on the armrest of the chair the other three were squished onto. She leaned over and placed her arms around them all, affectionately brushing Peter's cheek in hello as she did so. He smiled up at her warmly.

"But really, you two, we worry enough when you go out on campaigns, don't make us worry when you're home and meant to be safe!"

"Sorry, Su. " The brothers chorused, meeting each other's eyes with a grin.

"Now you'll both have to take it easy for the next day or so, get your energy levels up, you lost a lot of blood, especially you, Pete." Lucy warned. As she spoke, she lifted her bare feet and pressed them into Edmund's stomach. He yelped and squirmed away – _they were freezing_. Peter tightened his hold on both of them, grinning as they tussled. Edmund noticed only the slightest tightening around his eyes as Lucy's head hit his shoulder. He was healing well then.

Susan's eyes lit up. "Oh! You can help me with the winter festival organisations! I've yet to put up the flowers in the throne room."

Edmund, giving up fighting off Lucy's toes, rolled his eyes as Peter threw back his head and laughed.

"Sure, Su. Whatever you need." He grinned at Lucy, who was hiding her giggles in Peter's chest. "Can't be any worse than fighting off a Werewulf, right?"

Lucy winked. "We'll see."

......................................................................................................................................................

All done. Let me know what you thought!

Crimson.


End file.
